


Till The Stars Burn Out Above You

by gingasaur



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Bondage, Episode: s08e01 New Order (1), Episode: s08e02 New Order (2), F/M, Forced Orgasm, Mind Control, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingasaur/pseuds/gingasaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t have the right to make it feel like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till The Stars Burn Out Above You

**Author's Note:**

> Potentially triggering.
> 
> Thanks to [nighttones](http://nighttones.livejournal.com/), [missparker](http://archiveofourown.org/users/missparker/pseuds/missparker), [adventurepants](http://archiveofourown.org/users/adventurepants/pseuds/adventurepants), and [cheapmetaphor](http://cheapmetaphor.livejournal.com/) for beta duties.

Noise.

There was always so much goddamned _noise_.

A horrible, buzzing cacophony slammed against her brain and rattled her bones. Every single time, it was like this: loud and clanging and piercing her head like a sword. It had to be killing her by this point. She felt like she was ready to snap in half.

She was shaking. Shaking and screaming and pleading for true unconsciousness. She felt cold Replicator blocks at her back, felt her muscles tensing with blind struggle, heard the words Fifth had spoken to her just before he plunged his hand into her head: “I want to see it again.” He’d been smiling when he said it. His eyes had sparkled, eager and hungry.

Bile burned at the back of Sam’s throat. How many more times? How many more times was he going to do this to her?

She suddenly became aware of something else: he wasn’t quite there yet. A hard jolt of adrenaline ran through her as she realized Fifth didn’t yet have his usual iron grip on her mind; she was still clinging desperately to the edge of reality. Her chest constricted with hope, then determination, and she increased her efforts to shut him out until her entire body burst with searing pain.

And then it was over. Just like that, it was over, and her fight was done. His cage, as she’d taken to calling the hideous sensation of him being in complete control of her head, slammed firmly into place, enclosing every part of her. The buzzing vanished. A chilled quiet settled into her mind as darkness overtook her, and she cursed Fifth for everything he was worth.

She felt no reaction from him.

She cursed him again and again until she slipped away.

\---

She came to slowly, her mind sluggish as it throbbed with ghosts of pain. Her eyelids were like lead, simply refusing to open each time she tried, and maybe that wasn’t so bad, because maybe it meant she wouldn’t have to contend with this ungodly agony anymore.

Her muscles twitched, and she shivered against cold. Why did it always have to be so cold? A trail of goose bumps flared up along her arms as another shiver worked its way down her back. She instinctively moved to wrap her arms around herself, but her wrists collided with something solid. Trying to move her arms again produced the same result, and it was then that she registered an odd sense of suspension, like she was floating. Her legs didn’t feel right, either, and her attempts to adjust them failed.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t move at all.

It hit her with the force of a freight train and her eyes snapped open, every muscle in her body taut with barely-controlled panic. Looking up, she found her arms raised, wrists chained to the wall above her head by thick bands of Replicator blocks. The whole room was covered in them from ceiling to floor, just like the place Fifth was keeping her, but it was bigger and the lights were brighter. Less doom and gloom, more sunshine and flowers. As if more space and clearer lighting were supposed to make this better.

She caught sight of herself when she looked at the floor, and her stomach clenched so hard it hurt: she’d been stripped of all her clothing, even her dog tags, and her skin was pale against gray metal. Two rods of Replicator blocks stuck out of the wall, ending as more bands entwined around her bare thighs. They held her still, kept her above the floor, and spread her wide open.

A half-crazed laugh escaped her. No wonder she was so fucking cold.

Her muscles quivered as she pushed and pulled against the restraints – her punishment, perhaps, for not simply rolling over and giving in to him. She tried to slow her racing heart, tried to keep her breathing even, told herself there was still a way out of this. Not like there’d been a way out of it the previous times, but at least Fifth had the decency to start those off with a little more subtlety.

She pushed harder. Not again. She wasn’t going to go through this again.

As soon as she thought it, a sudden flash of heat blazed between her legs, expanding and washing over the rest of her body in a fast wave. She went rigid, eyes wide as she sucked in air through clenched teeth. God, _not again_ ; she couldn’t take this anymore. He’d push her even farther this time, she knew it.

She had to bite back a moan at the next wave. If there was one thing Fifth seemed to enjoy making perfectly clear, it was the fact that he could do anything to her. He could make her feel anything he wanted, and so far, he’d wanted her to feel pleasure. Powerful, just shy of being painful pleasure, pleasure that threatened to consume her or drive her mad or – and she thought this became more and more likely every time – kill her. A third wave slammed her senses, and she failed to suppress a full-body shudder.

Memories flooded into her head, and it was hard to tell whether she was naturally recalling them or if Fifth was deliberately shoring them up to stimulate her further. The other times were still so fresh in her mind, as clear and vivid as if they were happening again right now. Her face flushed and she shut her eyes tightly, pulling and jerking against her restraints until her wrists hurt and her thighs were sore.

It had been Pete the first time, and she’d bought it for a while and bought the idea of him leading her into a bedroom and pressing his mouth to hers. She’d been overwhelmed with arousal and thought that was a little weird for a simple make out session, and as Pete started peeling clothes off her body, all sorts of little pieces kept neglecting to fall into place: Why were they there? How did they get there? Where in the world was “there”?

By the time her eyes fell on a door that lacked a knob and something within her snapped in sudden comprehension, it was way too late; Pete just smiled a smile that wasn’t his and continued to kiss her as she beat her fists against his chest, drove a knee into his gut. He turned her onto her stomach, pinned her to the bed with impossible strength, and all she could do was inhale sharply as he took her from behind. She could still feel the warmth of the sunlight streaming into the room through lacy curtains, could still hear a dog barking somewhere outside, could still experience the building pressure as Not Pete thrust into her over and over again.

It should never have felt as good as it did, but it was as if every fantasy Sam had ever had was piled onto that moment and she squirmed at the memory of that avalanche of sensations, so completely overpowering that she could only bury her face in the bed’s comforter and think about anything to hold herself together.

She heard the words, “You’re beautiful,” as her body betrayed her.

The second time was worse: it was Daniel and Teal’c, at the same time, and she didn’t know how she was going to look them in the eye when (if) she managed to get out of here. She wanted so desperately to believe it was them, that they’d finally come to bring her home, but their eyes were wrong and their smiles were too manufactured and they didn’t stop when she asked them to. They didn’t stop, and she’d had to hold back tears as they held her down and showered her with kisses lacking affection. The taste of salt from Daniel’s hand covering her mouth was still on her tongue and she didn’t understand how Fifth could just take these precious memories of her friends, her _family_ , and twist them into nightmares of beasts who didn’t listen to “no” and “please” and “stop”.

Of course, he made her enjoy it again, having found all her little private daydreams about the possibilities of jumping into bed with either of them, what they might do to her, what it might feel like. He found it all and amplified their voices whispering in her ear, their hands on her skin, and he forced her to ride wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure as that thing wearing Teal’c’s face fucked her into oblivion. She remembered thinking there was nothing she could experience after this that could make her insides churn with more shame.

Clearly, she spoke too soon.

Every nerve ending in her body was on fire now. Fifth had already turned her into a writhing, trembling mess, and she thought bitterly that it must have been some sort of record. She was aching, sweating, pulsing with the need for release, and every breath she took shuddered in her lungs.

“Is it fun for you, seeing this?” she managed to choke out. She was alone in the room, but she felt Fifth all around her, as always. Always looking, always watching. Sam glared at the ceiling. “How many more times are you going to have to see this before you’re satisfied?”

There was no answer. She laughed mirthlessly.

“Not this time,” she said, lips twisting into a wicked smile. “I’ll kill myself, do you hear me?” She drew in a huge breath, expelling it and her words in a hailstorm of pure rage. “I’d rather be dead than let you do this to me for the rest of my life!”

She still felt nothing from him and wondered if he even took her seriously. He was a fool to test her on this. He should damn well know by now just how much she wasn’t kidding.

“I’ll find a way to do it,” she muttered. “You’ll never keep me here forever.”

With that, she shut her eyes, took a breath, and smashed the back of her head into the wall. It stung, but not enough, so she did it again. At the very least, she hoped to knock herself out of this atrocious illusion, because there was no way, no way in heaven or hell or anywhere else that she was going to come for him again.

She bashed her skull in until black spots danced on the edge of her vision, and she was grateful to see them. She felt the room start to melt away under her relentless assault, thought, _Thank God,_ and prepared herself for the final blow that would launch her into blissful unconsciousness.

She threw her head back.

She sighed with relief.

Her head was stopped by something soft.

 _NO._ She screamed it at Fifth, wherever he was, and when she opened her eyes-

When she opened her eyes, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared, just stared, as her heart squeezed within her chest and the color drained from her face.

“Jesus, Carter. What the hell are you doing?”

Her thoughts ground to a halt.

His hand was so warm against the back of her head, so impossibly gentle, and his eyes shone with concern.

“Sir.” It slipped out of her mouth before she could even think to swallow it.

“I’m here, Carter.”

He looked so real. He sounded so real.

She wanted him to be real.

“You… you’re in Antarctica,” she said, her brain finally catching up with her. “You’re in stasis.”

Jack (she was too exhausted to think of him as anything else) shook his head. “Not anymore. I’m out, I’m safe.” He smiled at her, and it was so genuine and so _him_ that her chest ached. “You guys really saved my ass.”

Her vision tunneled around him while her pulse raced beneath her skin. She thought absently that this was easy, _way_ too easy, but here was Jack just standing in front of her like he hadn’t ever gone into stasis at all. And if anyone could free her from this purgatory…

“I missed you,” she blurted. Some distant part of her felt as if she’d suddenly displaced an entire half of her mind and was just wandering around now, trying to figure out where it went.

He smiled again, and a mountain of tension lifted from her shoulders. If this was too good to be true, she wasn’t sure if she cared.

But that rational voice in the back of her head, the one that flat-out screamed at her now, wouldn’t let up. She winced slightly, shaking her head as if to clear it.

“What’s the matter?” Jack asked her, gingerly cupping her face in his hands. They were still warm, but in those first few seconds of contact, they felt unbelievably cold.

She looked at him again, really looked at him. His eyes were brown, just like they should be. He wore a uniform, a green one, the same one he’d been wearing when they left him behind. Everything was normal. He was normal. Wasn’t he?

“How…” she began, licking her lips as she struggled to put her thoughts back in order. She swallowed, and her throat was dry. “How did you get out?”

“Of stasis?” Jack looked at her like she’d just asked him the sum of two plus two. Somehow, his smile wasn’t carrying that same warmth. “You and Daniel and Teal’c came to get me. We were coming back home when that son of a bitch took you.” His eyes hardened for a moment, his back straightened just a bit, and he looked about as guilty as she’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner, Carter.”

She lost a bit of her focus, vision blurring as her eyes fell on his dog tags. There was an answer here. It was right within her reach. All she had to do was grab it.

 _We were coming to get you,_ she thought. _We… Daniel wasn’t even there, it was just me and Teal’c, and…_

Something almost tangible clicked within her, and it was then that she closed her eyes, letting her head drop.

“Carter?”

“Don’t,” she muttered. “Don’t play with me like this.”

Sam’s whole body tensed while her stomach twisted itself into aching knots. It was almost laughable to think that she’d even for a moment let herself be drawn in by this, lured by a Jack who touched her face and said all the right things and yet failed to give a shit that she was hanging stark naked from a wall right in front of him.

There was one reason and one reason only why he was here. And it wasn’t to bring her home.

“You’re not real,” she said, raising her head and meeting Jack’s gaze defiantly. “Nice try, Fifth.”

Something flashed across his face, something she couldn’t decipher. His smile wavered and Sam went stiff, the weight of what she’d just done catching up with her. He never reacted well to being caught in the act.

For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. His hand drifted up and he placed one finger against the hollow of her throat, suddenly making her very aware of the way her pulse hammered beneath his touch. She swallowed hard, willing herself to keep her eyes on him, as he seemed very intent to keep his eyes on her.

She felt him slowly sliding his finger down, hovering around her sternum before finishing its descent. He left a line of tingling flesh down her chest and his finger looped around to skim along the curve of her breast, making her shiver. Around and around he went, taking his time working his way toward her nipple, which was well on its way toward hardening. She couldn’t stop her breath from catching slightly when he finally reached it, and he traced circles around it with agonizing slowness.

This was going to happen.

Holy _shit_ , this was really going to happen.

Sam managed to take a breath. “Do whatever you want,” she said, her eyes still focused on him, her voice hard. “You’ll never break me.”

Jack’s finger stilled.

“Who said I’m trying to break you?” he quietly asked. His thumb shot up to join his finger and he pinched her, hard.

That got a gasp out of her, and a smirk out of him.

She was shaking now, despite her mental insistence to herself not to let him see her fear. Her breathing was hard and she was warm, way too warm.

Jack leaned in closer to her. She turned away and shut her eyes.

“Fifth, please,” she said, trying to ignore Jack’s fingers pulling both nipples now. “Stop, just stop.”

“There's a part of you that wants this.” Jack’s voice rumbled way too close to her body. “Otherwise I wouldn't be here.”

“No.” She shook her head deliberately. “I let him go.”

Jack’s breath puffed hot against her neck. “Did you?”

That was the last thing he said before his hand gripped her jaw, lightly at first, then harder as she resisted him. She kept her eyes closed as he forced her to face him and kissed her, tongue darting into her mouth like a snake. It sent a shot of heat straight through her chest and down to her core, and she tried, desperately, to even out her breathing and tried not to think about his hands on her breasts, squeezing them, rolling them-

 _Holy shit._

She’d had this fantasy before. Not shackled to a wall and fondled mercilessly, but certainly shoved up against one with Jack’s entire body holding her firmly in place, and she egged him on with a wicked smile as his hand slipped into her pants with delicious ease. Eight years of sexual tension did that to a person’s fantasies, she discovered. It was hard and it was fast and it was one of the best wet dreams she’d ever had.

This was going to be slow. Very, very slow.

Not to mention absolutely mortifying.

She repeated to herself over and over that _It’s not really him, it’s not really him,_ but that didn’t matter when it felt like him, sounded like him, tasted like him, smelled like him. Everything she’d ever known and imagined about Jack O’Neill was right here, right in front of her. His hands were doing everything flawlessly, fingers dancing across her skin in all the right ways and in all the right places.

It was too perfect. It was sick. She had no idea what Fifth wanted anymore. If this wasn’t designed to break her, she didn’t know what was. This was a manipulation so deliberate and an invasion so complete, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Worse than Jolinar, worse than the entity, the sheer power of this horrible violation of her entire self was tearing her apart.

He didn’t have the right to make it feel like this.

Her blood ran cold at the thought that Fifth could do this to her forever, that he probably had every intention of doing this to her forever. Was this the fate to which she’d be damned for one mistake, one promise she never should have made?

She swallowed around the painful lump of tears firmly lodged within her throat.

“I truly wanted to help you,” she whispered. “You have to know that. I really-”

Her eyes flew open as Jack tightened his grip on her breast and his other hand- oh God, his other hand. It slid along her stomach, traveling south at an excruciatingly slow pace, and she shouldn’t have looked, but she did look just in time to see his hand envelop her, fingers hovering dangerously above her folds.

Jack’s eyes were unreadable, but a small smirk still tugged at his lips.

She bit back a wealth of noises as he methodically slid a finger inside her, and she impulsively tightened around him. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his finger curling upward, and she jerked as he hit the right spot with frightening ease, rubbing it, teasing it. His lips left soft kisses against her skin with each stroke, and she started to shake for entirely different reasons.

Her eyes widened as another finger fought for entrance. When it finally slipped inside, a small, high-pitched grunt escaped her. This was insane; how could she be this far gone already? Her body practically wept for him to finish the job. Her nipples were nothing more than hard points sticking out of her chest, and the depth of her ache was unfathomable.

Jack’s fingers started moving back and forth, easing in and out of her slowly, then faster, ratcheting up his pace in unbearable increments until she could only shudder once, uncontrollably, from head to toe.

“ _Sam,_ ” he murmured against her ear in a voice so scorchingly low it threatened to catapult her over the edge right then and there. She managed some sort of incoherent utterance in response.

His thumb found her clit and rubbed in tight circles, and she gasped for breath against the torrent of arousal churning within her. She moved on instinct: hips pushing back against the wall, legs shaking as they crushed themselves against their restraints, every part of her trying to get away when there was nowhere to go. Her body had never been so stimulated, so utterly desperate to find release, and her frantic mental repetition of every law of physics she’d ever memorized wasn’t going to hold this off any longer. Her head fell back as her muscles trembled and tightened against her will.

Her climax still managed to take her by surprise, and she bucked off the wall, back arched and body shuddering as stars pounded the inside of her eyelids. A ragged, helpless cry left her throat as waves of intense pleasure carried her up and up and up, so high she thought she’d crack under the weight of it, and then sent her plummeting to the drowning depths of powerful aftershocks.

She finally slumped against the restraints after what felt like hours, panting and twitching as aftershocks continued to hit her. Heat fizzled under her skin as she tried to blink away the blurred fog in front of her eyes.

So much for not coming again.

When her vision finally sharpened, she saw Jack off to the side, fiddling with his belt.

“No,” Sam said, her voice scratching the inside of her throat.

Jack didn’t seem to hear her, or didn’t care. He tossed the belt open, kicked his boots off, and Sam turned away as soon as he stepped out of his pants. It was easy to see where this was going. She didn’t need to watch it.

The telltale clink of his dog tags reached her ears before they hovered in front of her face, swinging before her eyes like some sort of hypnotist’s pendulum. Jack tossed them aside without a word, and she watched as they skittered across the floor. Her eyes stayed glued to them even when they stopped moving.

“Now we’ve got nothing to worry about,” Jack said before he moved in again, hands on her hips, mouth sucking at her neck, the hair on his chest brushing against her breasts.

Her head snapped around to look at him, revulsion spiking in her stomach. No more. She could not, would not take any more of this.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, jerking back against the wall until she could feel the lines and grooves of Replicator blocks jamming into her skin. “Don’t _touch_ me!” Her demand remained unheeded. Jack’s hands slid around to cup her buttocks while he bent to nip at her collarbone.

She was dizzy. Dizzy from panic that could no longer be reeled in, dizzy from the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her, and dizzy from the smell of him, so much stronger now and shooting up through her nostrils until her brain swirled with nothing but him.

“Relax, Carter.” She wanted to snap back that it was impossible to relax with his rock hard dick pressed up against her, but the words wouldn’t come. Rage built within her chest, red-hot and searing, and her short breaths burned in her lungs. She was hanging on by her fingernails.

“ _Get the hell away from me!_ ” It burst out of her with a power that surprised her, and Jack froze.

Sam couldn’t hear anything except the sound of air rushing into her mouth and blood pounding in her ears. There was something tickling the side of her face, and she blinked and realized they were tears, spilling from her eyes in hot cascades.

Jack pulled back slightly, his face ashen. He looked so thrown; hurt, even, and his hand reached for her face.

He stopped the moment she flinched.

She watched him, still inhaling half-adequate breaths and struggling to stay alert as his expression grew serious. His brow furrowed with- was it anger? Worry? She was seconds away from passing out completely; she could barely tell up from down.

Sam felt her restraints release, blood instantly flowing back into her numb limbs as she fell, and then Jack was all around her as everything went black.

\---

She was looking at him through candlelight.

“See?” he said between bites of steak. “Told you we didn’t need to go anywhere fancy.”

She glanced down at herself and found a dress, sleek and blue and long, with a slit that was way too high and a neckline that was way too low.

Nice to know exactly what he thought of her.

Jack smiled at her adoringly ( _adoringly?_ ) from across the table, and she decided to humor him, just this once. She gazed at the plate in front of her, picked up the fork and the knife and cut herself a small piece of steak.

It was dry and chewy with an aftertaste like copper.

“Good?” he asked her, still smiling.

She was way too tired for this shit.

A glass of wine stood beside the plate, and without another thought, she snatched it up and threw its contents into his face.

As she watched the red liquid drip off his chin, her head exploded with pain, but she thought that it was worth it.

\---

She caught the scent of wood smoke. A chair creaked under her as she shifted, and when she opened her eyes, she saw water.

Blue sky. Sunshine. A lake surrounded by green trees. It was exactly as picturesque as she always imagined it.

She let her head rest against the back of the chair while her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

“Hey.” She could hear his smile. “Nice nap?”

She registered an odd weight in her hands and looked down to see a fishing rod, and something else. Something on her finger, glinting in the sunlight.

Oh, this was low.

Jack started to say something else, but she was already pushing herself out of the chair and tossing the rod down onto the dock, taking grim satisfaction in the sound of it clattering against the wood. She then tore the ring off her finger and flung it as far away from her as it would possibly go.

It hit the far edge of the lake with a small splash.

Before she blacked out again, she caught a glimpse of Jack’s face, red and twisted with fury.

\---

Her head was killing her. Her mind was a mess. She could feel him screwing around with it in ways he previously hadn’t: fingering the frayed edges of her memories and thoughts, pulling them out like little threads, smoothing them over, and shoving them into places they didn’t belong until she was just barely lucid.

She was either going to throw up or die, or both at the same time.

He put her inside her vision of the cabin this time, locked her in there, and she grabbed the heaviest lamp she could find and started ramming it into everything that would break. When it suddenly collapsed in her hands into a cascade of tiny metal fragments, she picked up a chair instead, cracked off a leg and swung it like a bat into the panes of every cabinet she saw, every picture frame, some sort of display case. She relished the sound of glass crunching beneath her boots and let out a crazed laugh.

She found a closed, fogged-up window in the middle of her rampage and railed on it with her makeshift weapon, not surprised that the hits glanced off it like it was rubber and absolutely furious that it refused to shatter.

How long she stood there beating it, she had no idea, but she eventually felt resistance as she tried to swing again. Heavy, powerful resistance. She whirled around to find Fifth standing there, holding the chair leg with one hand, his grip like iron. She wasn’t sure whether she should soak in the triumph that she actually got him to show himself or if she should respond to the stone cold terror freezing her in place.

Opting for a cross between the two, she dropped the leg and backed away from him, pressing herself as much as she could into the window.

Fifth threw the chair leg down with such force that the broken end lodged itself into the floor like a knife. Sam stared at it and half-stumbled to the side on shaking limbs, but Fifth immediately moved to block her from escaping.

 _This is it,_ she thought. _He’ll kill me right here._

He moved closer to her, hand poised and ready to invade her once more and all she could do was stand there and try not to beg for mercy, again. If she was going to die, then she’d die with some shred of dignity.

Just before his fingers shoved into her forehead, she caught a glimpse of something on his face, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Like he was scared out of his damn mechanical mind.

 _Taste of your own fucking medicine_ , she thought as the entire world crashed down upon her.

\---

“ _Jack._ ”

She needed him. Craved him. Loved him.

And with the way he was kissing her, it was pretty obvious he felt exactly the same way about her.

It was still new to them, this whole relationship thing. Little foals walking around on unsteady legs, that’s what they were, but – and she noted this gratefully – at least they were walking. They didn’t go to all the effort to defeat the Goa’uld and eradicate the Replicators for nothing. They’d _earned_ this. She still had to remind herself sometimes that it was okay to enjoy it.

It was also okay to enjoy the places his hands were going. It was _definitely_ okay to enjoy that.

She leaned against the headboard, sort of, and his arms encircled her back while hers wrapped around his neck, and it was just… nice. It was nice to be held by him, she’d discovered, to just let go and be enveloped by him, by the safety and warmth and comfort his arms provided. It was how she always thought he would be.

She ran her nails up his back, slowly and lightly, just enough to get him to groan into her shoulder. It made her laugh and it warmed her, this simple idea that her nails on his skin could get him to react like that. There was a subtle shift toward urgency in his kisses, and his hands pressed a little harder and it was all extremely welcome. Sam responded in kind, bringing his mouth to hers with her hand on the back of his neck, her teeth tugging just a little longer at his bottom lip, legs moving and hips shifting so she could find him and rub against him.

His breath caught and she laughed again, soft and low.

“Lie down,” he whispered in her ear.

She hummed teasingly. “And what if I don’t?”

He let his forehead rest against hers, giving her a clear view of the smirk on his lips. “Trust me,” he said. “You’re gonna want to lie down.”

He backed off, giving her room to comply, and she did, trying not to grin too eagerly. She was already burning for him, and it would only get better now. Or worse, depending on how one chose to look at it. And she chose better, every time.

She settled down onto her back, her head resting on the pillows and she waited, taking a little time to appreciate the view of Jack’s body and watching the way his eyes roamed over hers. It was almost juvenile, the way they leered at each other sometimes, but it did tend to do an excellent job of fanning the flames.

He moved back in, rather gracefully under the circumstances, and it didn’t take long for him to be all over her. Her eyelids fluttered shut as his mouth found one breast and his hand found the other and how did he even do that? How could he concentrate enough to do what he was doing with his hand at the exact same time his tongue ran in deliberate circles around her nipple? He began to suck, drawing her even further into his mouth and she exhaled a soft moan, encouraging him with her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. She felt the tickling vibration of him voicing his appreciation against her skin and almost shivered.

His hands drifted to her thighs, holding them still as he worked his way down. His lips were everywhere and his tongue left hot, wet trails that cooled rapidly and did make her shiver. She wanted badly to spread her legs right now, no more waiting, but his grip was firm and she couldn’t move. She wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted her to. She felt a rush at the thought and her breathing quickened.

He didn’t completely open her knees right away and it drove her crazy, the way he moved so slowly, lips brushing the insides of her thighs until her hands dropped to the sheets and she squeezed a fist in them. She could feel his breaths, wispy against her charged, sensitive skin, and it was almost torturous, having him be so close and yet so very, very far.

Then, finally, he was there, hands on her thighs instead of his mouth, and he spread her wide and held her there as he buried his face between her legs. She moaned aloud at the contact, urging her hips forward to meet him. His tongue slid teasingly around her entrance, going everywhere but inside and she breathed out his name, begging him to continue with just that sound.

And he did, the tip of his tongue flicking her clit before dipping back down, worming its way in until she could barely see straight. He worked ten kinds of magic and it was almost unreal, the way he just _knew_ exactly where to go, how fast to lick, how hard to suck. Her hips arched further and she moaned again. God, she was getting close. Just a bit more and she’d be ready, so ready to-

Suddenly he was gone, and a small sound of surprise slipped out of her at the rush of cool air against wet heat. She wanted to return the favor but he was already up and positioning himself and her heart pounded in her chest watching him move above her. She thought fleetingly that she wanted him around her again, and then there he was, leaning down until his body covered hers. He certainly didn’t need to ask if she was ready, what with her huffing against his ear in short, anticipatory breaths, and she forced her legs even farther apart as he finally slid inside her.

Her head spun. He filled her perfectly, every part of him throbbing into every crease and fold of her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clung to him, riding his deep, full thrusts. She started bringing her hips down to match his movements, easing them into a rhythm that sent her scrambling for control and oxygen. Lost in a haze of utter bliss and the sound of her own satisfied moans, she could barely hear him grunting against her ear, could barely her name tumbling out of his mouth. An intense shudder worked itself down the entire length of her body, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer and closer until she could feel his heartbeat through her chest.

“Jack, I need,” she began, a breathless plea. She felt the warmth building, felt her defenses buckling, and he held her tighter, pumped harder. The back of her hand hit the bed with a thump, and she immediately felt his fingers tangle with hers and squeeze. She squeezed in return as they raced toward release.

She came hard, muscles clenching and releasing and clenching again, sounds bursting from her throat in fragments. She felt the back of her head hit the pillows, felt Jack bury himself completely, hips quivering against her as he muttered, “ _God_ , Sam,” and then let go.

Eventually, she felt him softening and exhaled, peaceful and content. He pulled out slowly, melting into the bed next to her before he spooned up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzled his face into her neck and breathed out, the air tickling her skin. She laughed quietly and found one of his hands, let her thumb rub lightly against the back of it.

“That help?” he murmured.

“With what?” She blinked sleepily.

He paused. “Stress,” he finally said.

“Sure,” she replied. She felt like she’d missed part of a conversation somewhere.

“Good,” he said, and held her tighter.

She was so close to sleep, and her muscles felt more relaxed than they had in a long time.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she said suddenly, not entirely sure of where it came from.

He shifted behind her, “hmm”ed a reply. She kept her eyes closed, but the more she came down from the post-coital high, the more she felt as if she was failing to remember something vitally important. She felt a brief pang of annoyance; whatever it was, she didn’t see why it had to ruin this moment. She adjusted herself before letting out another small sigh.

It popped into her head after a few minutes, and she muttered, “Oh,” as her eyes opened in the darkness. “I remembered.”

Jack said nothing. His breathing was heavier, like he’d already fallen asleep.

“Remind me to call Janet tomorrow,” Sam continued, figuring she was saying it more to herself than to him now.

It was odd, somehow, to be thinking of Janet. To be saying her name.

She frowned, frustration gnawing at her. She was really forgetting something.

“Your hands are freezing,” she said to Jack. “Do you know that?”

She heard nothing from him.

She really couldn’t remember why she needed to call Janet.

And then, out of nowhere, she tasted metal at the back of her throat, around her teeth, on her tongue, and it all hit her in a terrifying, horrible rush. She stiffened, eyes wide and mind reeling with what just happened here. With what she’d just done.

She turned around slowly, searching for Jack’s eyes in the dark, trying to cling to the possibility that this could be real for one more second-

She couldn’t find his eyes because he no longer had a face.

She didn’t hear herself scream, but she felt the sound rip from her lungs just the same.

\---

He was touching her again.

Always touching. Always looking. Always watching.

The floor chilled underneath her. She suppressed a shudder and focused on the ceiling, a wall of Replicator blocks and nothing else.

She hurt everywhere, and yet, she was so numb.

“How do you feel?” Fifth asked her. She could see him smiling out of the corner of her eye. He was stroking her hair, the side of her face. Patterned, mechanical motions that she supposed were meant to emulate tenderness.

Why was he even asking? He already knew everything anyway. She’d been cut up, laid out and exposed until there was nothing left. A living autopsy.

“I regret that I had to hurt you,” he said, and looked away. His hand stilled. “But I had to make you understand.”

He turned back to her, an eager smile on his lips, which was all too familiar by now. “And I think you do.” He resumed stroking her hair.

Even if she wanted to say something, she wasn’t sure any words would come. Her mouth was dry, her throat felt sore.

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” Fifth continued. “You don’t ever have to feel pain again. All you have to do is stay with me.”

Sam blinked once. It was the only kind of flinch she could muster.

“You know now that I can give you everything you want. Everything you need.” He leaned in a little closer. “I _know_ you, Samantha.”

He’d never said her name before. It sent a new kind of chill down her spine, even after everything else he’d done to her.

“You think those men know you, but none of them can ever know you like I do. None of them can ever love you like I do.”

She wanted out. Out of here, away from him, for the rest of her life.

“None of them can ever please you like I can.”

 _Somebody, please, just get me out._

He bent over her, holding her face in his hands. They were ice cold against her face.

“Stay with me,” he repeated. She tried to keep her vision defocused as his eyes bore into her.

Sam kept herself still, saying nothing, hopefully betraying nothing, least of all not the ways she wanted to scream and keep screaming until she passed out. She wondered briefly how she was ever supposed to go home and be normal after this. Assuming she was ever rescued.

She had no idea how long Fifth stared at her like some sort of newly purchased piece of art, but eventually, his gaze softened and he leaned back. He let go of her face and returned again to caressing her cheek. “Of course. You’re exhausted after all that. I admit the limitations of the human body are still unfamiliar, in some ways. But that’s all right.” His smile widened. There was something in his eyes, something she really didn’t want to know about. “We have plenty of time for me to learn the limits of your endurance.”

Oh, God.

“You can rest,” he said. “I will continue to gather more neutronium. Then we will talk.”

 _We will talk. I had to make you understand._

 _All you have to do is stay with me._

Before she realized what she was doing, her arm shot up, slapping his hand away from her. She looked right at him, glaring hard with every ounce of strength she had left.

Never. She’d never surrender to him. She’d fight him for the rest of her miserable life if she had to.

The realization sank in slowly on Fifth’s face, and he then went from shock to despair to white-hot anger in seconds. He shot to his feet, and everything started spinning. The pain was unbelievable, and Sam heard her voice, strangled and anguished and barely sounding anything like her own.

His hand tore out of her like a knife and her body crumpled, back slamming against the floor as sharp, vicious agony roared through her brain. Her hands flew to her forehead and she curled into a shivering ball right in the middle of the dark, frigid room.

Fifth’s footsteps echoed against the floor. She heard the slurp of him absorbing himself back into a wall, leaving her alone with nothing but the fresh pain in her head and the dull ache between her legs.


End file.
